The Tears
by lyagushki i romashki
Summary: I suddenly found myself screaming at Death to leave him where he was, broken and cold on the rubble of the castle, the tears of his family washing me away.
1. Taking Over the World

Prologue:

In one small moment I realised that I had not been the unassuming uninvolved figure I had fancied myself to be in the story I had patiently been watching throughout those two years. It was more than that now. I couldn't deny myself that sliver of hope.

But I am getting ahead of myself. I haven't even introduced myself yet, how rude.

If you could please imagine a large cold room in which no one stands except yourself. It is very dark, so much so that you cannot see anything but two words written on the wall in front of you in which you try to convince yourself is red paint. These two words read 'get out'. They had not been there a second ago. They had appeared in the microsecond of a blink.

That feeling you would have.

That is me.

Chapter One: Taking on the World

I roam around finding someone to hold me all the time, often succeeding in the most unlikely and predictable places.

This story is about when I was in the grasp of a boy by the name of Draco Malfoy. My story is little about him though. I tell it from his point of view, for at the time I was carried by him practically every hour for hundreds of days. Of course do not make the presumption that I am the only one of my kind. Many people in the place they called Hogwarts carried my kin and my friends in those days. I sometimes flitted from person to person when I felt their need for me but so often the human who needed me the most was Draco Malfoy. He would take over a broken challenge, a faulty mission, a defective operation. Of course he would want me. He knew if he failed my old friend Death would introduce himself in his soft voice and I would stay with the poor boy until he let me go and left with Death to forget his failure.

I was first pulled into Draco's grasp on a day in his house (or manor as he called it) a year before that malfunctioning assignment was delivered to him from the tongue of the Dark Lord himself. Suspicion, who I often replaced or accompanied in people, had called me in. Suspicion explained to me that his presence was necessary because Draco could sense that the man by the name of Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and No-Nose (my personal nickname for him in honour of his unfortunate facial structure) was gaining power. His father, Lucius was rather involved in Voldemort's return to strength, and for the first time, _I_ was pulled into the situation/Draco's arms. My family had told me of their time in his grasp throughout the years, watching his tear-filled fights with the man named Lucius, but as for me personally I had never met Draco before. I didn't know that I would be his almost constant companion for the following two years until the day I like to call my 'conversion'.

The first few days I was with Draco were uneventful and bland. Those first days were of little importance to the story though, and I admit I was bored. My friends stayed with me though; I saw Nervous all the time and we got on well, but Determination was a less often seen face to me. Draco fumbled with Determination quite a few times, and I laughed to hear Determination grumble and moan with the maltreatment. Nervous and I were held more tightly, and sometimes Draco found it hard to pick up other things for his grasp on us was so solid.

My story is told from the foothold I had in Draco Malfoy, from my sanctuary in his arms, from the comfort I had with my friends though Draco had none himself.

It is told from where Draco was standing, but it is about the boy named Fred Weasley, and how I suddenly found myself screaming at Death to leave him where he was, broken and cold on the rubble of the castle, the tears of his family washing me away.


	2. Brief Days

Chapter Two: Brief Days

Our (that would be Determination's, Nervous' and my, as Draco had apparently already become acquainted with him) first meeting with Fred Weasley was a Wednesday. The day of the week means nothing, it's just a bit of information I say to set the scene.

**More Scene-Setting Information:**

**It is in the room named The Great Hall. It is morning. Half-hearted light falls from high windows. Dull, sleepy chatter mats the faces of the students. Every person, student and teacher carries an armful of my friends, family and enemies. **

Draco Malfoy strides confidently into the Hall, hiding my friends and I behind his back. Fred Weasley is the first person he sees that he views as an acceptable target.

"Hey, Weasley!"

This is my introduction to Fred Weasley.

I peek out from behind Draco and try to get a look at what I then thought as a minor distraction in Draco's life that was to me, quite boring. He shoves me down, the situation obviously not requiring me. I sulk. Determination laughs. This, I suppose, he sees as Karma but I hadn't seen her in ages and I certainly couldn't see her now.

From in front of Draco I hear a boy say, "What do you want Malfoy, I don't really have time for weedy little prats like you today."

I chortle, though Draco seems less amused. Anger, Dignity and Rashness wave as they pass us by. We wave back - we were all on good terms with them.

Draco sneers. "Keep talking like that Weasley, someone who you wouldn't want to hear you, soon will."

Draco is very pleased with this dramatic statement (even though Drama was nowhere to be seen, though she was not known for her reliability). He is planning how he is going to turn and walk away when, to his shock (I shake hands with shock - her and I go way back) the boy named 'Weasley' insults him further.

"Did you really come all the way over here just to try to sound enigmatic? Stupid boy…"

The people who are watching the scene laugh. Embarrassment appears and tries to be as inconspicuous as possible but we all notice him anyway.

"Why you- my father-" Draco bursts out.

"Let me guess, he'll hear about this," Weasley says in a mocking tone.

"That threat gets less and less intimidating every day," another voice that was almost identical to the first, though a little deeper, adds blandly. I hear someone at the table say, "Hey George", and I assume the deeper voice is this 'George'.

"Though more and more amusing!" 'Weasley' laughs along with most of the Gryffindor house of whom Draco so often talked about whilst Spite sat on his knee.

Draco obviously realises that his burning face was not going to calm, despite Embarrassment trying to wedge himself into a corner and disappear. With the laughs of the Gryffindors nipping at his heels, Draco storms away from 'Weasley' and the other similar voice. I was finally able to see the mystery pair of boys who were some of the few I had witnessed insulting Draco.

Twins. That explains the similar voices. I couldn't tell which voice belonged to which Weasley twin at the time, though obviously I do now. In both of them, I see Humour, who I never get on with. I scowl at both Humours and they grin back at me.

The twins both possessed bright red hair, cheeky grins and kind faces, though in one I saw Revenge who had made herself comfortable and was obviously there for the long haul. Revenge didn't notice me, or Humour who was next to her, it seemed. She was held deeply there, and I wondered what this could mean. My conclusion was that the twin who carried Revenge was ever so slightly darker than the other, probably more prone to the crueller pranks they play (pranks being a symptom of deep rooted Humour like the ones in both boys, I quite rightly assumed this habit of the Weasley twins).

This whole observation of the Weasley twins takes place in a few seconds, because Draco pulls Determination around to his front and Determination was determined (duh) to go nowhere without me.

That was my first encounter of Fred Weasley, told by your faithful narrator in first person, present tense. I hadn't even known his first name, or which twin he was. It was one of many encounters. After the fifth I began to look forward to the next time I saw Fred Weasley.

Before we left the Hall, I called hello to Impatience, Annoyance and Brutality at the front of the Hall, ignoring Sweetness who I hated. I smiled at their expressions. None looked too happy at being in the grasp of a woman wearing so much pink.


	3. The Second Meeting

Chapter Three: The Second Meeting

I admit at that point I forgot all about nameless Weasley and 'George' Weasley. They were nothing but a small distraction in the long days I was to spend and had spent in Draco's grasp. It was not like I made a point to remember all of his acquaintances. There were too many for me to care about; he was at a _school_.

But remember them I did, even subconsciously. I pin this down to the fact that not many people dared to insult Draco those days. I had heard the tale many times; ever since _Potter_ had returned from the maze the whole world had been in uproar over the apparent return of the Dark Lord/No-Nose. From what I gathered, the Ministry of Magic had made it their personal mission to screw everything up, and instead of preparing for the return of the murderous and powerful wizard, they decided to convince everyone that nothing had happened and No-Nose was as dead as always (although he was never really dead, I heard that from Death himself).

The odd thing was, pretty much all of the wizarding world believed them. Perhaps this can be put down to the saying 'ignorance is bliss', which makes sense because one thing I can tell you about Bliss, she is _so_ ignorant.

At Hogwarts, in Draco's fifth year an interesting woman appeared. I later realised she was the woman in pink whose companions I had waved to on the day of my first meeting with Fred Weasley. I had noticed her only once before; she had given a speech at the beginning of the year, handing out members of the Boredom family like candy.

Draco had a class with her, Defense Against the Dark Arts I believe it was called.

**A point about me:**

**I am quite young.**

My kind are created in a flash at any point in any time, but we never die. Not truly, anyway. We simply fade and become weak, difficult to hold onto and easy to drop. It is a sad process.

This is why when I was in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Draco dropped me heavily to pick up Superiority and Dark Humour (Humour's rather unpleasant relative) I was so shocked. I was young, how dare he drop me so!

But it was the aftereffects of the drops that were of real importance.

In those brief spans of time when I was free and floating I was supposed to leave and find someone else to hold me, but something made me stay.

I stayed near Draco so that when he needed me again he could simply pluck me out of the air and everything would return to normal. I didn't know why.

**Why I stayed:**

**I did not know it then, but I was involved.**

I was involved in a deeper, far spanning plot that required me to stay when Draco let me go. It was not my choice. If it had been I wouldn't have stayed – I was unaware of my involvement then, so what inducement did I have to stay? Hanging around in a classroom of rowdy boys and gossiping girls to whom I had no prior attachment, save Draco though I didn't exactly see him as my friend did not appeal to me at all.

Some (like Determination) tease me and say that I stayed because I cared about Draco. It is true that sometimes we form bonds with the people who carry us, especially those who hold us for years on end. This was not the case between Draco and I.

The reason was plot. Fate. Destiny, whatever you want to call it. That is why I stayed. If I had not stayed, my second meeting with Fred Weasley, a full three weeks after the first, would have never occurred.

**Scene-setting information for our second meeting:**

**It is in the corridors. It is midday. Clouds hold back any true light. Students are in class and the halls are eerie and silent. Save the sound of a single pair of footsteps.**

Draco walks along the corridor with the note in one hand and me in the other. The note is for the teacher Professor Snape. Draco is intimidated by Snape because he knows Snape is involved in reviving the Dark Lord and is working alongside Lucius. Draco does not yet know that Snape will later try to help him kill Albus Dumbledore. He does not yet know that Albus had ordered him to do so.

If he had known he would not have needed me and I would have still been floating aimlessly and confused next to him, with no one to hold me up and without purpose or reason. Someone like me without a carrier is wrong. It is not meant to happen. That is why the transition between being carried by one person to the next is so swift – the in-between is not meant to be. But that is not relevant to the story. Yet.

Draco walks into the roots of the castle and makes his way to the dungeon where he knows Snape teaches Potions.

The note is from Dumbledore.

Draco pauses outside the dungeon door. The note is there in his hand, ready to be opened, read, then sealed seamlessly by magic. The sounds of laughter and background class noises peer out through the door. I shift uneasily in his hand.

He shakes his head in a sort of resigned obliging way and pushes open the door. Instantly he drops me and I hit the floor with a cry.

The class is N.E.W.T. Potions. It is made up of one Hufflepuff by the name of Agnes Lamp, six Ravenclaws whose names are irrelevant to the story, three Slytherins who reappear later (two of which are killed in the final battle between the Dark Lord and Harry Potter) and two Gryffindors named Fred Weasley and George Weasley.

I knew everyone's name but Fred. No one picked me up. I simply sat on the floor in mild pain and watched as Draco smirked at the occupants of the room in which he did not require me.

"Mr Malfoy," Snape says curtly from the front of the room.

"A note for you sir." Draco manages to make this sound like a taunt.

I get up and look around for a temporary host who could hold me until Draco returned (Snape was now reading the note with impossibly thin lips and Draco was deliberately not taking the hint for him to leave). I see a red-headed boy whose face looks vaguely familiar to me. For some reason I do not want to make him pick me up. I see Humour in him and shy away. He is laughing at something his twin has said (the twin without Revenge who I identified as George). He does not notice me before him.

I find it odd how I do not know his name.

Draco returns. He stalks out of the dungeon door in a flurry of black and green robes. The red-headed boy with Revenge hisses comically as Draco passes. I hold onto the end of Draco's robes like a child and follow him out. I turn to look at the boy as I leave.

At that point Fred Weasley meant nothing to me.


	4. Us

Something you should probably know about:

Sub-emotions.

They're not really emotions at all. Just sort of make believe to give us something to do during eternity.

Sub-emotions are what I have. They're what Determination has and what Hate has and what Dignity, Suspicion, Anger, Pain, Joy, Humour and Exhaustion have. We trick ourselves into thinking that we feel things.

We don't really.

It's just a game.

Sometimes.

Chapter Four – Us

The night of my second meeting with Fred Weasley, Determination, Nervous and I stayed up late. We were all in the Slytherin fifth year dormitory, held loosely in the sleepy grasp of Draco. There we were held as it is only when a person fully lets us go that we can wander.

So there we were with nothing to do, nothing to witness and nothing to spy on. Determination spoke first.

"I'm bored," he said.

"No you're not," Nervous said, twitching.

"I am too. I feel it." Determination was very pro sub-emotions.

"You're lying to yourself," I said. I wasn't convinced about sub-emotions.

"I have something to ask you," Determination said, turning to look at me. Draco frowned in his sleep.

I looked blandly at Determination instead of answering.

"Why aren't you shaking or something?"

Frowning myself, I asked him what on earth he was talking about.

"Well, I'm resolute, Nervous is panicky, why aren't you-"

Nervous shrieked. We turned to stare at her.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I thought I saw something."

Rolling our eyes, our talk veers away from sub-emotions and behavior and soon finds its way to the acquaintances of Draco.

It happened like this:

"Who's that boy with the red headed twin named George?"

The words danced away from me and hovered in the air above us. We watched them hanging there, bright and carefree.

"You mean Fred Weasley?" Nervous said, her gaze darting from the words to me.

That sentence was repeated to me several times throughout the following two years. Every time, I answered the same.

"Yes," I said quietly. "I mean Fred Weasley."

In my mind, the name connected with the face.

The next time we met, I remembered it.


	5. 100 Reason

Chapter Five – 100% Reason

Yes the title is a reference to the Fort Minor Song. I thought I might tell you this because it would make no sense to the story if you didn't understand that. Something else that might inhibit your understanding of the story is me not telling you about the third meeting I had with Fred Weasley so I had better get on with that.

**Good old reliable scene-setting information:**

**It is outside. The flags whip in the air. The crowd stains the arena with crimson red and emerald green chants. The broomsticks look like matches from where I am held, the players like blades of grass and rose petals.**

Draco has a steady hold on me, making it difficult for him to stay on his broom. His grasp on the broom is slipping and I sit in his hands and watch. We never do anything to our carriers. We can't.

Draco sighs impatiently. He glares at the red smudge that spins past him that is Harry Potter on his Firebolt. Annoyance smirks at me from Draco's shoulder. I look innocently back.

Seeming to give up, Draco suddenly lobs me high into the air and far away. I scream at the sudden speed and height as I begin to fall, the wind contorting me and pulling me away from myself.

No one hears but Concentration, Exhilaration, Determination and Nervous in the fourteen people I fall by. They cringe. They watch as I spin towards earth. They sit in their holders like candles in a pool of dried wax.

I scream as I fall.

I scream and scream and scream.

Player 12 passes the quaffle. Player 9 receives it.

I scream.

Player 9 swerves to avoid Player 26. Player 26 smashes into Player 17.

I scream.

Player 9 is tackled by Player 28. Player 28 accelerates towards the opposite goals.

I scream.

Player 28 is aimed at from below. Player 6 lines up the shot. He turns his head slightly to let the wind blow his bright red hair from his eyes. He holds the Beater's bat in his hand, Concentration in the other. The bludger bullets towards him. He swings the bat. Player 28 does not see it coming.

I scream. Player 6 cheers with his team and flies away. He flies right by me as I fall screaming through the cruel nothing.

There is a moment when he is a few centimeters away from me. I cry and cry as I fall. I yell and plead for someone to hear me. Here is someone. They do not hear me.

Time seems to slow. I hear his uneven breath, sped up by the exercise. Then, I keep falling.

Fred Weasley flies over me and away. I silence my screams. I turn in the air as I watch him fly away, careless, fearless.

The moment I hit the ground is when I start believing in sub-emotions.

The pain only left hours later when the grounds were empty and the sun had gone home for dinner.


End file.
